


A Deviant Psyche

by nayahasmyheart



Category: Glee
Genre: Drama, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-15
Updated: 2012-05-17
Packaged: 2017-11-05 10:53:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/405604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nayahasmyheart/pseuds/nayahasmyheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Santana has been ridiculed by her peers and raped by her father all throughout her childhood. She is contemplating suicide when Brittany, almost too perfect to be real, falls into her life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Daddy Loves Me

Daddy loves you. Daddy loves you. Daddy loves you.

Daddy loves me?

I sat on my bed and looked down at my homework. What was the point in even doing it? I already knew all of the material.

That was a question I asked myself a lot lately—what’s the point? What’s the point in getting up in the morning? What’s the point in getting dressed? What’s the point in eating, going to school, learning? What’s the point in living?

I was miserable. I hated going to school because I had no friends. Kids at school would mock me, tell me I was weird, stare at me like I was insane. They called me Crazy Pezzy. The maddening thing was that I didn’t even know why. I had never done anything wrong to them. I was the kid who was singled out by everyone for being a little different. A little peculiar.

It wasn’t always like this. I had lots of friends in kindergarten and first grade. Then, in second grade, everything changed. My mother passed away. My world was crushed.

The night of my mother’s funeral, my daddy came into my room. He was intoxicated and depressed. He said he needed someone to love him.

It really hurt the first time. I was hysterical. I begged him to stop. He didn’t. He just kept saying, in between thrusts, “Shhh, baby… Daddy loves you.”

I didn’t go to school that next morning. I didn’t eat. I only got out of bed to go to the bathroom, where I was horrified to see the giant black bruises on the insides of my thighs. By the time night rolled around, my eyes were too dry to produce tears and my body too numb to feel the excruciating cramps.

I remember how my body shivered violently as I heard my daddy’s heavy boots approaching my room. I remember how I buried my head under my pillow and silently wished for my mother to come back and stop him. I remember the helpless sob that came out of me when the door creaked open. I remember the physical pain he inflicted on me. But, most of all, I remember the mental scarring.

I caved in. I would go to school, but I wouldn’t really be there. Teachers had to call my name several times for me to hear them. I distanced myself from my friends. I would sit outside of the school for hours because I dreaded going home.

No one paid much attention. They all thought, “Oh, it’s natural. She’s just lost her mother. It’ll pass.”

But it didn’t pass. Even today, ten years later, I still break down in the middle of the school and cry. Along the way, I earned the heartless “nickname” Crazy Pezzy. Naturally, everything got better in high school, where they decided it would be ingenious to sell slushies. No one actually drank them. I would get a slushie facial at least once a week.

As for my father, he still came into my room at nights. But it was different now. I understood him. He loved me. It was all for the better.

I sighed and looked at my watch. 7:30 A.M. It was time to get ready for school.

I rolled off of my bed and looked at myself in the mirror. I was horridly skinny and my eyes looked despondent. I shook my head and got dressed.

When I got to school, I walked straight to my AP Calculus class. The classroom was empty except for the teacher, Mrs. Burmingham. She was my favorite teacher. The only person who actually made an effort to understand me. She smiled at me pleasantly as I walked to my seat, her deep green eyes twinkling.

“How are you, Santana?” she asked gently.

“I’m okay,” I replied coyly.

“Do you need help on the homework?”

“Oh, um, no, I understand it.”

She beamed. “Of course you do. You’re my brightest student.”

I felt my face getting hot as I smiled down into my chest. “Thanks,” I muttered.

The first bell rang, and students began to walk into the classroom with unsatisfied expressions on their faces. Everyone hated this class. Everyone but me.

Once everybody was seated, Mrs. Burmingham cleared her throat and began the lesson. Today, we were learning about differential equations. Easy stuff.

After the lecture was over, we were given the last twenty minutes of class to work on our homework. A girl in the seat to my right, I think her name was Quinn Fabray, turned to me.

“Do you have a calculator? I forgot mine at home and I need to know what 1936 divided by 36 is.”

“It’s 484 over 9,” I said quietly.

Quinn stared at me. She turned to another desk and borrowed someone else’s calculator. After typing in a few numbers, she raised her eyes to look at me in bewilderment.

“How did you do that?” she demanded.

“Do what?” I asked quizzically.

“How did you do that math in your head?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know. It just…comes to me.”

Quinn shook her head in disbelief and turned back to her paper.

Great. Another person thinks that I’m bonkers.

When the bell rang, I gathered my things and left the room. My next class was P.E., so I walked outside to the field.

Suddenly, a large figure blocked my path. I looked up to see one of the football jocks smirking at me.

“Hey, Crazy Pezzy… So I was thinking the other day, ‘You know what? That Crazy Pezzy girl is actually pretty hot.’ So I figured we should get it on.”

I tried to walk around him, but his friends blocked my way. What do they want from me?

“Listen,” the leader continued. “You sleep with me, and you’ll be the most popular girl in school. Don’t you want that?” he gripped my shoulder.

I don’t remember what happened next. My vision became as red as blood. I felt my arms move, my nails dig paths in his skin. I felt my legs carry me away, far away.

By the time I regained my vision and ability to comprehend my surroundings, I was almost home. I looked down at my hands. There was skin and blood under my nails. I held back a gag as I ran home to wash them out.

I lay down on my bed and wept. Why me? Why couldn’t they pick on someone else for once? What did I ever do to deserve this?

I heard the floor creak behind me. I turned around to see my father looking at me affectionately. His long hair was held behind his ears and his plaid shirt stank of alcohol.

“Daddy’s gonna make everything better, baby,” he said as he unzipped his pants.

He leaned over me, removed my pants and underwear, and thrust his pelvis. I closed my eyes.

Daddy loves you. Daddy loves you. Daddy loves you.

Daddy loves me.


	2. An Unexpected Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Santana has been ridiculed by her peers and raped by her father all throughout her childhood. She is contemplating suicide when Brittany, almost too perfect to be real, falls into her life.

Hush, little baby, don’t say a word  
Papa’s gonna buy you a mockingbird

I lay in my bed and gaped at the ceiling. Looming shadows danced on the walls. My blanket covered everything but my eyes.

And if that mockingbird won’t sing  
Papa’s gonna buy you a diamond ring

I snapped my head to the left, wide-eyed. Was there someone outside my window?

And if that diamond ring turns brass  
Papa’s gonna buy you a looking glass

The white curtains fluttered in the wind. Something was moving in the grass.

And if that looking glass gets broke  
Papa’s gonna buy you a billy goat

My body shook fiercely. Warm tears streamed down my face.

And if that billy goat won’t pull  
Papa’s gonna buy you a cart and bull

A twig cracked in half right outside my window. I yelped and pulled my blanket over my eyes.

And if that cart and bull fall down  
You’ll still be the sweetest little baby in town

Silence.

 

\- - -

 

I woke up with a start. I inhaled shakily and turned off my alarm clock.

I looked down at my aching arms. They were covered in thin red scratch marks. I sighed. Why do I always get so scared at night?

Shaking my head, I threw off my blanket and walked to the bathroom.

After brushing my teeth and getting dressed, I grabbed my things and left for school. The freezing air burned my face and my breath emanated white clouds.

After about twenty minutes of walking through residential areas, I arrived at school. The building stood white and elevated in the misty morning. An American flag waved in the wind and a large sign by the front doors read: “Welcome to the William McKinley High School!” A tall, marble statue of former president William McKinley stood by the sign, his face stern and his eyes vacant. 

I pulled open the glass front doors and entered the comforting warmth of the hallway. Gloomy students searched their lockers, heavy-lidded. I walked to my AP Calculus class. As always, Mrs. Burmingham was the only person in the room. She smiled at me warmly as I entered.

“Hey, Santana. I was wondering when you’d show up.” She brushed her long, brown hair aside. “I wanted to show you something.”

I looked at her questioningly and walked to her desk. Her olive eyes scanned me, and she said, “I overheard you and Quinn conversing the other day. I was very impressed by the way you were able to solve that problem in your head.”

I averted my eyes and let a little smile appear on my face. “Thanks.”

“I wanted to see if you can do this in your head.”

I looked down at the paper she was showing me. A simple equation was written on it: The square root of 272 over 5 plus the square root of 425 over 9 equals…

I looked up. The numbers flew into my vision and moved around until they solved themselves.

“61 root 17 all over 45,” I said with quiet confidence. 

Mrs. Burmingham gazed at me, her head slightly cocked to one side. “That’s right,” she said in an awed tone. She smiled. “I have a genius in my class.”

“What—no—I’m not,” I stammered. I became uncomfortable as she continued smirking at me.

“You’re humble. But you really are quite brilliant.”

I blushed into my shirt. Extreme relief swept me when the bell rang and I had an excuse to walk back to my desk.

I thought about what she told me. Me? Brilliant? I’d never thought of it that way before. I had always been able to solve complicated problems in my head. But I always thought other people could, too.

After fifty minutes, the bell rang to let us out to our next classes. I slithered my arms into the straps of my backpack and walked out into the hallway. I was heading to my next class, English, when a girl in a Cheerios uniform situated herself in my path. I looked up at her face. Her dyed dirty blonde hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail and her eyes, black as coal, twinkled cruelly.

“Hey, freak. I saw what you did to my boyfriend, Jake. I don’t appreciate maniacs clawing at my man.” She pushed me into the lockers behind me. The people who were standing around us turned their heads, eager to see a fight.

I quickly walked around her, trying to hide my fear.

“Don’t you fucking walk away from me!” she screeched. She grabbed my backpack and threw me to the ground. Helpless, I crawled up in a ball and tried to defend myself against her merciless kicks.

“Hey, hey! What’s going on here?” I heard a man’s voice yell. The kicks stopped. I looked up to see Mr. Schuester, the Spanish and Glee teacher, holding the Cheerio’s arm. “To the principal’s office. Now.” 

She yanked her arm free and, rolling her eyes, walked in the opposite direction. Mr. Schuester bent down over me and offered me his hand. I took it and was helped back to my feet.

“Are you okay?” he said worriedly. 

I nodded and turned around. I entered the girls’ bathroom down the hall and locked myself in a stall. I cried my heart out, sitting on the toilet seat. 

That’s it. I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t face the bullies and the nights and my daddy’s love. I made a silent vow. It ends now. I will take my own life and rid my worthless self of this world.

I heard the door of the bathroom open and shut. I could hear footsteps approaching my stall.

“Hello?” a delicate female voice called.

I didn’t answer. Whoever she is, I’m sure she doesn’t care. Just like everybody else.

“Hello? Can you please come out of the stall?”

“Why?” I sniffed.

“Because I want to talk to you,” the girl said sweetly.

I could see her shoes, blue Converse, under the door. After a few moments, I stood up and opened the stall.

She had striking blue eyes and long blonde hair. She looked at me affectionately.

“Hi, I’m Brittany. You’re Santana, right?”

“Yeah,” I muttered.

“Nice to meet you. I saw what that girl did . Why are they all so mean to you?”

“I don’t know,” I said quietly. My eyes were still puffy.

She gazed at me as if I were an interesting museum exhibit. Then she reached out her arms and pulled me into a hug.

I was initially surprised, but when she didn’t let go, I decided to hug her back. Her strong arms were so comforting. 

She stroked my hair. “I’m here. Everything’s going to be better now.”


End file.
